Septimus trudged into the dormitory and plopped down on his bed. He lay flat on his stomach and let out a quiet groan into his pillow. He didn't care if he attracted the attention of the other boys in the dorm. He was being driven mad. He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling. Why did his father see him as such a disappointment? No wonder his mum left. He ran his fingers through his curly brown hair. He pulled out his sketch book and started drawing, just to take his mind off things. But he couldn't help thinking what might happen should he try and convince Tate into letting him stay at Hogwarts over the summer holidays.